


Below the Waves

by barghest



Series: Hoisting the Colours [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Fratricide, Gen, Inspired by Pirates of the Caribbean, Mermaids, Pirates, Transformation, all that good stuff, i love pirates can u tell?????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 05:05:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7831411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barghest/pseuds/barghest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Genji's body slips below the waves, he did not expect it to be so cold.<br/>--<br/>part of a coming-soon series based on a fairly expansive potc-based au, might as well start with explaining what the heck happens to genji in this au. good stuff(?).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Below the Waves

**Author's Note:**

> this probably doesnt make a whole lot of sense without the full context, but it will! hopefully ill post more of the series within the next few weeks. enjoy o/  
> talk to me abt this au either on twitter @personsuits or on tumblr @ mccreehaw bc BOY HOWDY i fuckin love this au so much, ive put a lot into it already holy shit

When Genji's body slips below the waves, he did not expect it to be so cold.

He has swam before, in the summer when the water in the bay was emerald green and his elder brother would come back from the markets with fresh fish for dinner. They would sit outside whilst it cooked, feeding fish eyes to the cats as the sun disappeared below the horizon and a cool breeze dried the wet strands on his forehead. One eve, they had talked until the candles had burned down to stubs, until his eyes had drooped and the thin blanket around his shoulders was no longer enough to ward off the night air. He had let his tea go cold, so his brother had gone for more.

Now, he can still feel the cold steel of his brother's sword in his chest.

The waves close over his head as he sinks, and he realises he can't hear anything - just a dull silence that consumes him and pools in the centre of his chest. The cold clings to him, thick shackles around his limbs that pull him further into the dark. He had believed that bodies were meant to float, but he supposes, as sea water floods into his mouth, that perhaps the dead do not float. They sink with their limbs of stone, statuesque as they descend. The water above him is marred by his blood, charting his trajectory towards the sea floor.

There is a strange peace down here, as the currents draw him deeper and shadows dart around the edges of his fading vision. Not minutes before, he had been all snarls and barking, the metal of his father's rusted pistol clanging against the hard steel of his brother's sword. He had stolen the pistol in a vain attempt at self-preservation - in the end, it had been a worthless idea. His brother was quicker with the blade than any gunpowder and bullet. 

Now, peace has enveloped him. The fire in his heart fades - he is not angry at the fury in his brother's eyes as he floats down, he does not resent the lightness in his head and the heavy weight in his chest. His brother has only done what he thought right. He believed he was protecting his family from a betrayal, imagined or otherwise, that was purported to come from Genji. Whether or not it was best for Genji to be plunged so violently out of family life, that was an entirely separate matter. He tries to consider it. He tries to think.

Hands caress Genji's arms, and he allows his eyes to close - what is there to see this far down? Nothing, but the thin shafts of light that manage to reach this far down. The elders had been whispering in his brother's ear more as of late than usual, it is hardly surprising he would listen eventually. He does not blame his brother. He simply cannot. There is peace down here - if only Hanzo could experience such tranquillity himself.

The ocean embraces Genji in its many arms, snaking them round his chest to hold him tighter, closer. He smiles, as the last of the air leaves his lungs.

\--

The air hums around Hanzo as he kneels on the cliffs that protect the bay he had played in as a child. Overhead, dark clouds brew, rumbling quietly - in his chest, the dragon rumbles and weeps quietly as he can do nothing but look over the side, to the foam below. There is nothing that remains of Genji, a boy he had called brother since the day his brother had shown him the tiny bundle, sleepy eyes matching those of his mother. He had called Genji his brother even on the days where Genji lashed out, the fire in his eyes hard to quell when angered, or upset, or impassioned. He had cast that fire into the ocean, borne on the whispers of mutiny and betray, thin now as he tries to gather them in his mind.

Over his head, the storm breaks and his heart follows suit. The rain is heavy and immediate, beating over his back as he kneels in the mud, sword abandoned to one side. Hanzo hesitates for a moment, before grabbing it - the blade swings round and behind his head, slicing through the thick hair that falls (uncut for more than seven years) from his scalp. A black mass falls into his fingers, and he casts it over the cliff, whipped away by the wind into the crescendo of waves.

Hanzo places his sword down beside him again, fingers cold from the rain and trembling from the pain in his heart. His tears are hot on his cheek, head bowed forward in shelter from the storm.

\--

Genji wakes to dappled light on his skin and lungs full of air. His chest inflates as he sucks in, water running into his mouth and through his neck, bubbles rising around his ears. He does not understand.

Webbed hands allow him to push through the water and out of the tide pool he lies in. Fingers graze at his side as he paddles, and he turns in time for a shimmering form to dart past him, a fish tail close enough to touch. His eyes trace along scales that glitter in the underwater light, over where it fades to skin and muscle and bone, long hair the consistency of seaweed streaking through the water. He is a slower swimmer, even in this after-state. For now, he does not question.

He follows out into a rock formation, where he is greeted with sharp smiles and out stretched hands and tails, flicking and gliding through the water behind their owners. Genji does not need to look back to know he possesses one too. There is peace in his chest that bubbles over into gratitude and simple joy at the welcome. He does not question why they saved him, or for what purpose they have brought him to join them. He is only thankful for the strange, keening calls that echo through the water in warmth that somehow he understands - he is thankful he can rumble back, gills flapping a little as he sucks in more air.

There is thought spared for Hanzo, trapped in the over-world, not able to experience the freedom of this afterlife he has been born into. There is thought for forgiveness, but when Genji surfaces, he does not recognise the coast line. He is told he is too weak to travel far for the moment, so it will wait. He casts himself back into the depths, infiltrating schools of fish where the glimmer of his own scales allows him to blend in. He flitters across the path of sharks and breaches the waves with whales. 

 

He does not ask if the sea loves him like a brother. He does not need to. On the days he turns his head to land, he still holds back, the scar in his chest thick and tight at times. Genji promises Hanzo, in siren cries that echo through the maelstrom, he will find him one day - one day, he will ensure Hanzo knows that he is at peace. For now, the sea is his brother, and he dives back beneath the waves and the water caresses him, carrying him home.


End file.
